There was a sky somewhere above the tops of the buildings, with stars and a moon and all the things there are in a sky, but they were content to think of the distant street lights as planets and stars. If the lights prevented you from seeing the heav...
Though it had no wide reputation, all manner of people frequented 'The Midnight Bell.' This was in its nature, of course, since it is notorious that all manner of people frequent all manner of public-houses - which in this respect resemble railway st...
I grew up across the street from, you know, the Villarias, which was a great Mexican family there. In fact, there was three houses right across the street from me. So, day and night, I listened to Mexican music, and I'm sure, you know, my guitar play...
Fat Mancho: The street is the only thing that matters. Court is for uptown people with suits, money, lawyers with three names. If you got cash you can buy court justice. But on the street, justice has no price. She's blind where the judge sits but sh...
Matt Buckner: What are you talkin' about, baseball is a girl's game? The Red Sox has a guy that pitches the ball over 90 miles per hour! Pete Dunham: Who cares? All that means is that he can have a wank faster than you.
Prime Minister: I'd like to go to Wandsworth; the dodgy end. PM's chauffeur, Terry: Very good, sir. [they drive to Wandsworth] PM's chauffeur, Terry: Harris Street. What number, sir? Prime Minister: Oh, God. It's the longest street in the world, and ...
What do you hang on the walls of your mind?
The handwriting on the wall may be a forgery.
I was in Germany when the wall came down.
I tend to wear outfits that match the walls.
The walls are the publishers of the poor.
When I was a kid, I played the piano for six years, and all my family are musicians.
To lose is to win.
Modern slavery is a hidden crime and notoriously difficult to measure.
Clinton's pardoning of Marc Rich was off-the-wall.
Written in these walls are the stories that I can't explain
If people want to put me up on their walls, I'll love it.
Brendan Frye: Which wall's the door in?
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the dumbest of you all?
She walked down the basement steps. She saw an imaginary framed photo seep into the wall - a quiet-smiled secret. No more than a few meters, it was a long walk to the drop sheets and the assortment of paint cans that shielded Max Vandenburg. She remo...
There is always the risk: something is good and good and good and good, and then all at once it gets awkward. All at once, she sees you looking at her, and then she doesn't want to joke around with you anymore, because she doesn't want to seem flirty...
